


Anathema

by OnDesertSky



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, josh is the new kid in youth group, shit is gonna go down, tyler is a choir boy, tyler's dad is a music minister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnDesertSky/pseuds/OnDesertSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler Joseph is the son of his parish's beloved music minister, and a dedicated choir boy. Joshua Dun is the newest member of Tyler's youth group, Faith Teens. Something about the new boy has Tyler's stomach in knots. He doesn't believe his parents, his priest, or his God would approve of these new feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> a·nath·e·ma
> 
> a formal curse by a pope or a council of the Church, excommunicating a person or denouncing a doctrine.  
> synonyms: an abomination, an outrage, an abhorrence, a disgrace, an evil, a bane, a bugbear, a bête noire

 

_What a friend we have in Jesus,_   
_All our sins and griefs to bear!_   
_What a privilege to carry_   
_Everything to God in prayer!_

 

Tyler’s voice warbled along to the familiar hymn as he tried to squint away the bright lights dancing in front of his eyes. He watched as his father’s hands waved in the air, rhythmic and a musical instrument all their own. He supposed working as a music minister for nearly twelve years would afford someone that much grace. If only he could manage it.

 

His eyes closed against the words exciting his bowed lips, chest lurching from the attention of the rapt congregation. No matter how many times he stepped up to the solo artist’s podium, nerves always jangled in his guts, twisting and turning in his mind.

 

_Oh, what peace we often forfeit,_   
_Oh, what needless pain we bear,_   
_All because we do not carry_   
_Everything to God in prayer!_

 

He exhaled loudly with the final phrase, momentarily cringing at the feedback from his microphone. He’d definitely hear about that mistake later. His knees only wobbled a little bit as he returned to his seat in the front row, fingers flicking out in the air mindlessly. His mother greeted him with a warm smile and a small, warm hand at the nape of his neck. Tyler squeezed her knee lightly in thanks.

 

Father Nicholas quickly spoke out the closing prayer, hundreds of voices murmuring along in time. Tyler hoped no one noticed he forgot to bow his head.

 

“And tonight my friends, let us all be thankful for the guiding light of Christ. Remember his embrace as you go forth from this place of worship. He is with you everywhere you may go.” Father Nicholas’ words radiating through the still room, not even interrupted by the screaming of an infant.

 

Tyler attempted to rub the chill bumps away from his thin arms to no avail.

 

 


	2. Irrevocably

 

 

Familiar excited chattering filtered through Tyler’s ears as he walked to the youth room. Meetings always took place directly after mass. Tyler had yet to arrive late to a gathering, even after three years of attendance. Before becoming old enough to join Faith Teens, he’d been an active member of Kids 4 Christ, the group meant for parishioners under the age of thirteen. Back then, his mom was a regular chaperone for group outings. He didn’t mind being kept to a strict schedule with her warm smile there to keep him company.

 

It wasn’t that Tyler didn’t have friends in youth group. He was actually fairly popular with the other kids, especially since they all knew his father. He actually enjoyed talking to most of the kids, and freely participated in sharing time and other “bonding” activities, even if he did find most of them really repetitive and even boring. It just grated on his nerves sometimes, having to go along with the public opinion of his dad.

 

The spacious youth room was lit with yellowing bulbs, casting an odd shadow against the crucifix and garishly colored Faith Teens logo adorning the adjacent wall. Tyler grinned as he saw several hands waving in his direction, asking for him to sit with them. He usually ended up seated on the floor, butt digging into the ugly blue carpet the priest years previously somehow found pleasing.

 

“Hey, Tyler!” A familiar voice called, accompanied by the swishing of a blonde ponytail against his shoulder. “You excited for tonight?”

 

Jenna was Tyler’s best friend. Her huge, white smile always seemed to dull the random pangs of annoyance he felt increasingly often as of late.

 

“Hey Jen!” He greeted her, shrugging his narrow shoulders. “I mean, I guess so? Is there something special planned tonight?”

 

Jenna rose her thin eyebrows at him, nudging him a little in his side.

 

“Were you listening at _all_ during lunch today? You’re such a space cadet sometimes.”

 

Tyler huffed at her comment, though he didn’t entirely disagree. Sometimes he just got lost inside his head.

 

Debby said she was gonna bring her new neighbor tonight.”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah! I think I remember her saying something about that.”

 

Tyler usually sat with assorted Faith Teen members at lunchtime. Jenna and Debby were regulars, as well as a few other kids Tyler had been going to church with since forever. Debby had told all of them about her new neighbor of a couple weeks, and how she’d wanted to start bringing him to the weekly meetings.

 

“He’s kind of different, but in a nice way,” She’d relayed, smiling a little. “He just really needs to meet people, and maybe come out of his shell a little. I think the group would be a good place for him.”

 

Her words brought him back to his own first meeting. Shaky limbs, sweating palms, stupid “ice breaker” games and hands held together in prayer.

 

Tyler didn’t hold out too much hope, as newer kids tended not to stick around for very long. They usually came from military families floating through the area, which didn’t help matters much. It _would_ be interesting to see how a new guy would fit in, though.

 

“Obviously,” Jenna rolled her eyes a bit at him. “We haven’t had anyone new join us since the initiation. It’s gonna be awesome.”

 

The chatter gradually died down to a few whispers here and there, and Tyler noticed the youth minister waiting patiently in the doorway, wry smile on his face. Mr. Way was a bit older than them, his long hair usually tied back in a ponytail, typically dressed in jeans and a button-up. He didn’t have the same vaguely creepy, I’m-thirty-five-and-still-living-in-my-mom’s-basement vibe a lot of the other youth ministers held. Tyler didn’t mind him.

 

Mr. Way cleared his throat, pointedly looking around the room at everyone.

 

“Everyone, I want you to meet someone.”

 

An excited murmur echoed through the room at his words.

 

“This is Joshua Dun. He’s a friend of Debby’s, and he is going to be joining us tonight for some awesome activities!” Mr. Way made a swooping gesture behind himself, and a figure stepped out from the doorframe.

 

“Uh, I’m cool with Josh. My mom always calls me Joshua when she’s mad at me.”

 

A boy, probably about Tyler’s age, stood there. His voice was soft, a slight lisp coloring his words. His tousled, wild curly brown hair hung almost carelessly across his forehead, reaching down to brush against his delicately curved nose. Tyler saw a faint glimmer there, almost as if the kid had a _nose piercing_ , whoa. He was dressed in stark black skinny jeans, hugging the curves of his hips and thighs perfectly. Tyler’s eyes were mainly caught by the swirling colors of Josh’s flowing top, dotted with flowers and splashes of color, hanging on him almost like a dress. Tiny black dots pebbled at his earlobes the small studs glittering in the overhead light. Tyler’d never seen a boy with pierced ears before.

 

He felt someone nudging his side and turned to realize Jenna was motioning for him to close his mouth. He hadn’t realized he was gaping at Josh so obviously.

 

“Go ahead and sit wherever you’d like, Josh.” Mr. Way enthused, gesturing broadly around the room. “We’ll get started on the activities right after opening prayer. Tyler, would you like to lead us tonight?”

 

A pair of warm brown eyes met his, Josh’s small smile following his steps to sit beside Tyler. He tried not to let his voice shake too much as he thanked God for allowing everyone to gather together that night.

 

Man, he was screwed. Eternally, irrevocably, completely screwed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really stinkin' excited for this


	3. Lunch

 

 

 

The lunchroom was crowded as usual, mindless chatter pinging between the walls and creating a headache-worthy swarm of noise in Tyler’s ears. He waded through the crowd to find his usual spot, on the floor in front of the huge trophy case by the entrance. His feet stopped as he spotted Jenna and her megawatt smile. His heart stuttered a bit in his chest as he spotted Debby and the brown haired boy folded up next to her on the scuffed linoleum.

 

Josh.

 

Sunday night had gone really freaking well. The other kids in youth group seemed to accept Josh seamlessly, almost as if he’d always been there. Tyler bet it had something to do with the boy’s easy smile, the warmth always in his eyes. Not that Tyler had been looking that closely, as that’d be too weird and very clearly BadWrongDon’t.

 

He had sat next to Tyler without hesitation, grinning at him as he shimmied across the carpet. Debby was almost beside herself with happiness at Josh’s reaction to the group, wiggling and clapping her hands every time someone new introduced themselves to him.

 

“Hey, I’m Josh,” he had said, those freaking eyes glittering up at Tyler, making his response slow in his throat.

 

“I heard,” Tyler replied, like a complete moron. “I mean – uh, hi. I’m Tyler.”

 

“You’re the one that sings, right?”

 

Tyler found himself surprised Josh knew about it. Then again, his dad was very well known around their small town. They had probably already met at some point in time.

 

“Yeah, my dad’s in charge of the music here. He has me sing a lot of the solos and stuff.” Tyler felt his cheeks heat, hoping Josh wouldn’t assume he was bragging.

 

“That’s pretty awesome, dude,” Josh grinned. “I play drums.”

 

“No way!” Tyler exclaimed, cursing himself for sounding so excited. He’d always wanted to learn how, but his parents didn’t feel it would contribute to his “path to Christ.” After all, most backup music recordings already had drums added…

 

“Yup, I learned how to play a few years ago, back in my old town.”

 

“Oh.” Tyler mumbled uselessly.

 

“You know, we should hang out and jam sometime. I had a lot of musical friends back home, but you’re the first one around here I’ve met.”

 

“Debby plays the flute.” He blurted out, wanting to smack himself.

 

Josh laughed easily.

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t think that would pair well with what I’m going for.”

 

“You’re probably right,” Tyler said. “Um, if you really don’t mind, I’d love to play sometime. With you, I mean.”

 

“Sick!” Josh smiled. “Wanna get my number? We could figure out a day and time and stuff that way.”

 

Tyler’s fingers fumbled with nervous sweat as he entered his number in Josh’s beat up phone, settling for “Tyler :]” as his contact name. Seconds later, he felt his pocket vibrate.

 

_And now you have my number ;]_ Tyler saved his information, along with a smiley face emoji. He felt like a seventh grader all over again.

 

Now, as he headed to meet his friends at lunch, he wondered what exactly his insta-connection with Josh may have in store. He was probably just a super friendly person, not wanting to make Tyler feel left out or something. Yeah. That’s why he’d been so nice, right?

 

“Good afternoon, Ty-ty!” Jenna greeted him as he sat down, wincing at the embarrassing nickname’s use in front of Josh. Why did he care, anyway????

 

“Hey guys.” Tyler breathed out, fingers fumbling with the zipper on his lunch bag.

 

“Hey Tyler.” Josh’s warm voice floated over to Tyler. He couldn’t help but notice the wau Josh scooted closer to him on the floor.

 

“You bring your lunch every day?” Josh asked, sounding genuinely curious about it.

 

“Um, yeah,” Tyler felt his cheeks pink. “I’m kinda a picky eater, I guess.”

 

“That’s cute,” Josh smiled. “I can eat anything and everything!”

 

He proceeded to launch into a story of something he liked to call “Everything nachos” – but Tyler’s brain had trouble catching up, too strung out on Josh using the word “Cute.” It fell so easily from Josh’s lips. He…he probably didn’t even mean it the way it came out.

 

 

Freakin’ CUTE.

 

Who even used that word so casually anymore? Apparently Josh did. Apparently it was going to ruin Tyler’s thought process for the rest of the day. He sighed bitterly, mind feebly running over the BadWrongDon’t feelings coursing through his veins.


	4. normalcy

Of all things, Tyler wondered, how could he grow so anxious over a freaking doorbell? He'd been pacing his room in a relentless pattern ever since he'd woken up at 6:45 a.m, heart pounding and sweat pooling in the divots of his collarbones. Something about the idea of Josh Dun coming to his house had his stomach in knots.

 

Breakfast had tasted of cardboard (it was even his mom's nearly heavenly french toast!), his coffee felt like sandpaper going down. His hands trembled as he tried to clutch his fork in vain. It finally clattered to the table as he gave up entirely on the idea of breakfast. His mother kept sending him furtive glances over the rim of her reading glasses, as if he would ever admit to feeling nervous over the impending arrival of one curly-haired, stomach twisting boy. If that wasn't  _ badwrongdont _ , Tyler didn't know what was. 

 

Josh had texted him pretty regularly ever since the two had exchanged numbers the week before. He'd been out of school for the past few days helping his mom and dad finish moving into their new place, so Tyler hadn't seen him in awhile. Josh had insisted on them getting together that weekend, something about going stir crazy and wanting to hear Tyler sing again. 

 

Tyler pretended not to notice the weird feeling growing in the pit of his stomach with the knowledge.

 

His bony fingers shook against the button clasps of his nicest shirt - a short-sleeved, baby blue number with little birds all over it. Jenna told him it was kind of girly, but Tyler liked the way it made him seem taller than he was. He agonized over what bottoms to wear. It wasn't very cold outside, so he could manage shorts okay. But the knobs of his knees made his heart hammer a little too much. What if Josh thought it was weird his own knees gave him a stomach ache? Best not to risk it. He ended up throwing on his favorite pair of black skinny jeans - a little worn in the butt and knees, but so freaking comfortable he didn't care. 

 

Crap. Hair. What was he supposed to do with his hair? Josh's hair always looked so nice, like he spent hours going over it in the mirror. He probably had tons of styling products. All Tyler had was limited access to his brother's odd-smelling "blue ice" hair gel. Maybe that would work. 

 

But what if Josh tried to touch his head and it felt like dried glue or something even more horrifying???? 

 

Why would Josh even touch his head in the first place??? 

 

Why was he freaking out so much about his looks???  It was just Josh.

 

Just Josh.

 

Tyler heaved a sigh, ran a shaky hand through his shorn hair, and threw himself down on his navy blue comforter to wait for the doorbell to ring. 

 

He really needed to get his crap together. 

 

The creaking of his door interrupted frantic thoughts.

 

"J-Josh!' Tyler yelped, scrambling up from his mattress with all of the finess of a baby deer. 

 

"Tyler." Josh smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

 

"When did you get here?" 

 

"Like an hour ago. I've just been helping your mom clean up around the kitchen." 

 

"You...you what?" Tyler fumbled out, eyes going wide, throat tightening. God knows what his mom could have said to Josh in that long of a timespan. 

 

"Dude, relax. I was just kidding. I got here like a minute ago. Your mom saw me walking up and let me in." 

 

His mom just let Josh in? Usually she had everyone stand around in the entryway for awkward amounts of time, chit-chatting about stuff until everyone felt as if their legs were going to fall off from standing so long. He wondered if she had spoken to his parents or something, to be that comfortable already. Did they meet in the grocery store? Did she tell them about the time when he was seven and asked the school nurse to marry him when he had a high fever? She really liked telling that one to people. 

 

“Tyler?” Josh said, voice concerned. “You okay, dude?”

 

Tyler shook his head a little and twitched his fingers up and down, up and down. He got caught up in his head a lot, and always at the worst times.

 

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just got caught off guard, you know?” 

 

Josh’s almond eyes narrowed a little. Tyler found he didn’t enjoy the sight very much.

 

“Oh, um. D’you need me to head back another time? I totally understand if you do...I didn’t call first. I knew I should have called first, frick.”

 

“N-no!” Tyler rushed out, nearly biting his lip off in the process. 

 

“No?” Josh answered, confused. 

 

“I mean, stay! Please.” 

“Okay.” 

 

“Okay?” 

 

Tyler lets himself breathe.

 

“Definitely! Wanna see my drum pads?”

 

“Heck yes!” Tyler enthused, almost bouncing over to where Josh was placing his overstuffed purple backpack on Tyler’s bedspread. 

 

***

 

“You gotta tell me where you learned to sing like that.” 

 

Tyler looked up from his notepad, scribbled with verses and notes for a song he was working on at the moment. Josh had been hitting out a steady rhythm on his drum pads, trying to come up with an accompaniment to Tyler’s lilting voice. 

 

“Uh, I guess from myself?” 

 

Josh quirked up an eyebrow. 

 

“I’m serious. I’ve always liked writing, and one day I decided to see if I could put a tune to it, you know?”

 

Josh shrugged. 

 

“What about your dad? I mean, he’s a music minister, right? Did he get you into music at all?” 

 

Tyler winced. “He isn’t really the encouraging type.” He immediately wanted to vomit once the words came out, hands shaking at the admission to someone he wasn’t sure if he could trust. Not even Jenna knew all of the details concerning Tyler’s feelings about his father. He brought twitching fingers up to his scalp, swallowing down the urge to smack himself repeatedly for losing control. His chest rose and fell rapidly, nerves swimming into his thought process, heart thudding in his ears. 

 

“Tyler?”

 

“Hey, whoa. It’s okay, dude. I’m not gonna say anything.”

 

Tyler felt warm, calloused hands cup around the fingers clamping unrelentingly against his scalp. Those fingers gently pried away at his vice grip, the soothing touch seeping into his bloodstream and calming him down slowly but surely.

 

“I...I’m sorry.” Tyler gritted out, eyes downcast. 

 

“You don’t need to apologize, man. Promise.” 

 

“How can you even say that? I’ve freaked out twice since you’ve been here! Normal people don’t do stuff like that. We were supposed to just jam and hang out and do whatever normal kids do!” 

 

“I hate to break it to you, but normal isn’t really a thing.” Josh flashed a small grin. “So don’t worry about being something that isn’t real.” 

 

Tyler couldn’t suppress a small laugh.

 

“That’s, um, some real sage advice you got there, Dun.” 

 

Josh chuckled, eyes crinkling in that way Tyler was beginning to really, really like. 

 

“Since when do you call me Dun?” 

 

“Since now, I guess.” Tyler grinned. “Whatcha gonna do about it?” 

 

“I haven’t decided yet, Joseph.” 

 

“Dude, really? You’re gonna go with the last name, too? So original.” 

 

“Just stealing from the best.” 

 

Both boys laughed softly,eyes meeting in the middle, noise dying down after. 

 

“Hey, so,” Josh cleared his throat. “Wanna just watch Netflix or something?” 

 

Tyler smiled.

 

“That sounds awesome.” 

 

The two settled back against Tyler’s headboard, scrabbling for the tv remote and shifting around to get comfortable. As the theme song for the X-Files blared through the small room, Tyler tried oh so hard to beat down the feelings of  _ badwrongdont  _ swimming in his veins as Josh’s thigh pushed against his. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, sorry. I'm really rusty with this whole writing thing.   
> hope you enjoyed

**Author's Note:**

> title inspiration from "Anathema" by Twenty One Pilots.


End file.
